Billy!
by George Lucas Official
Summary: Bill Murray wants to learn everything he can about magic...hogwarts won't know what hit 'em!


Bill Murray flaunted his roughly hewn tongue savagely before a startled group of four-year olds. He was erect.

"If anyone tries to tell you different, RUN!" he bellowed the last word. The children squealed and fled to and fro, catching busses like the little flies they were. Billy chuckled. He enjoyed his job. Enjoyed it alot. And it didn't pay so bad either.

With a hum and a huff to his step he popped open the trunk of his 1914 Caddy Cruiser and threw in his wretched suitcase. He closed the wooden trunk, sprinted to the side of his car and launched himself in the driver's seat.

"Now, for a little _relaxation…_ he grinned wickedly, popping in the _Beach Boys _unreleased solo album made just for Billy..._Pie Die Trying. _

"Oh YEAH, the pie is so GOOD!" Billy belted along with the Wilson brothers ™. He snapped and cracked his body in tune with the rhythm, smacking the front steering wheel as he did so.

Unfortunately, his little game couldn't last forever...all too soon there was the familiar blaze of red and blue in his rearview mirrors. Billy made a face and pulled over.

In his mirror he could see the strapping young officer, Zlorps, disembark from his automobile and stride gallantly in his direction. Billy quickly applied a thin layer of cake bake makeup and twirled his lashes seductively as Zlorps reached his window.

"Oh, but, whatever is the problem, _officer…" _he let the last word trail off in an irresistible sensual moan. Zlorps' eyebrows flickered upward, only for a second, before resuming a forced expression of sternliness.

"Billup Murray, what am I going to do with you?" let out an exasperated Zlorps, fighting to conceal his urges. "You were 50 over the limit...AGAIN. Five times in the last week, Billy, FIVE! Not to mention all the deaths...no, I can't let you go this time, I'm sorry Billy!"

Billy rolled his eyes, not daring for a second to believe that Zlorps was serious. He let his eyes wander down to Zlorps non-existent bulge in his police trousers. Zlorps gulped and put a hand out warningly.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Bill, I'm…" his words caught in his throat as Billy sensually unzipped his front jacket to expose 4 inch long nipples laden on hills of supple flesh. Zlorps' eyes left to another universe, one of pleasure and joy.

"You don't really wanna get mean ol' Billy in trouble, do you?" Billy crone. Zlorps shook his head, eyes still fixed unblinkingly on Billy's mounds.

Billy smiled. He had him where he wanted him.

"You gonna let Bill-Bill go?"

Zlorps nodded this time, reaching out with his hairy hands to grasp Billy's breasticles. Just before he made contact, Billy floored it, yet again leaving Zlorps blue-balled in the middle of nowhere.

Billy made his to his house in no time. He shot into the garage at full speed, braking at the last minute and skidding to a fashionable halt. He cheered, raising his flabby arms in victory.

"Victory!" he screeched, throwing a handful of dried raisins into his disintegrating mouth. He heaved himself out of his car, walking smartly around the mess of limbs and blood littering his garage. Fumbling with the keys, he finally managed to select the right one. He let himself inside.

A quick look around told Billy he would need to cook spaghetti. Immediately. Someone had been eating the furniture, though this wasn't the least surprising to Billy; goldfish were such temperamental domestic pets. He shot upstairs to the cooking area, where a fine layer of grease awaited his command on the kitchen counter.

Using math, he counted five cups of boiling hot water, placing a pot full of the delicious liquid over the stove. It glowed red-hot, a sure sign of heat and power. Billy smiled, laughing to himself as he poured in the rock-hard spaghetti noodles, not yet a year old. They fell in with a great splash, soaking Billy head to foot in spaghetti water.

"Drat and curses!" fumed Billy. His fingers curled in a sign of fury. He was mad. "GEROME!" bellowed Billy. He stomped his way into his magical hallway. A group of enchanted mirrors sat patiently while Billy struggled to remember the passcode.

"Couldn't you just...let this one slide?" Billy quibbled anonymously. The mirrors whispered, converging with some well-chosen words, before replying "YES!"

Billy squealed, peed his pants, and stepped through the mirror where his pet goldfish, Gerome, sat waiting expectantly.

"Ah, Billup Murray, how...quaint to find you here." Gerome, being a fish, sat in a small bowl filled with pristine water. Billy's water. Billy's-

"SPAGHETTI WATER!" Billy remembered his earlier source of frustration and dribbled drool every which way.

"You can't be serious! Me, a goldfish? Please!" Gerome clapped his goldfish fins together and sent Billy spinning, spinning, spinning….

"Huh, what's going on?"

Billy sat up groggily in the middle of Transfiguration class. It was a Tuesday...that much he remembered. Until-

" , would you stop blabbering and continue working on your handiwork!" snapped the Transfiguration professor, McGonagall, peering sternly at Billy overtop her glasses.

"Sorry, professor…"

Billy pulled out his wand, looking intently at the goldfish he was supposed to be transforming into a butterfly in front of him.

But instead

Of becoming

A butterfly

It became

A fly

Covered

In

Butter.

"EXPELLED!" shouted McGonagall, brandishing her own dick at Billy threateningly, poised much like a scorpion ready to sting unsuspecting prey.

"Back! Get back!" commanded McGonagall, edging closer and closer to Billy. He fell out of his seat, scrambling for the safety of anything, anyone. He looked to his left. He looked to his right. He looked down at his pants. What he saw was alright.

A squeal came bursting forth from Billy's mouth filled with stool,

As he made it clear to the class that he was quite cool,

He brushed dust from his robes, singing to the air

"My name is Harry Potter and I DO NOT CARE!"

The belt buckles began to drop with delight,

As McGonagall herself ran off with right fright,

But the moral of the story is to not waste any time,

Because one day you could be convicted of a crime.


End file.
